A Violent Tango
by SkyTate
Summary: long story short..... here sky is a killer and guess who he has to kill? better summary inside
1. Chapter 1

**Author: **Skytate17

**Title: **A Violent Tango

**Summary: **Bridge is an aspiring musician struggling to make ends meet. He turns to alcohol to solve all his problems and selling illegal substances to make enough money to get by. Sky is the complete opposite. He's an assassin who gets paid for killing unworthy people, and has earned wealth and money from his job. Everything changes when Sky meets Bridge, and Bridge becomes the only thing between Sky and his job.

**Note: ** I rather go with this for now…… but I'm still writing the other one!

* * *

_**Chapter One**_

His delicate figure hunched over a toilet seat; a soft, blank face and an empty smile. Bridge Carson was all Brown hair, sweaty cheeks and damp forehead under the dim bathroom light, emptying his stomach of all the alcohol he had consumed that night.

He swallowed tap water and looked at himself in the rusty mirror. He looked like shit, with blood-shot eyes and a flat frown. He felt weak and fragile, as if he would collapse any minute in the dirty bathroom. He could hear the bass booming from outside, the numbing noise of people's chatter and the beating of drums.

He stepped out of the comforting dim lights of the bathroom and into the darkness of the party. He could feel the intense heat in the room, a mix of body heat, friction and the heat in the room itself. The only lights were the red sparks at the tip of cigarettes and the glow-sticks Bridge had seen a few people thrashing around. He could taste vomit and bitter alcohol on his tongue, sending a shiver up his spine.

He was drowning in the shadows of people, all his senses heightened by the alcohol that still remained in his body. The music was deafening and loud, like everyone else. He sang along to a few songs he knew, dancing with random party-goers, their hot skin meeting his damp skin, sending a tingling sensation through his body.

In the midst of the dance floor, Bridge felt his knee grow weak and his head throb. Yet, he wanted to stay there, the music was so energizing, so alive. Music. That was what he loved the most. He wanted to pursue a career in music more than anything else, the cheap, easy high he got off music was enlightening for him. The cheap, easy high was costly though. To get that cheap, easy high he held a side-job as a drug dealer. He sold as many illegal substances as he could get his hands on, often making enough money to get the cheap, easy high for days.

Until those days were over, and the same routine would repeat. And it wasn't only for the high, it was for other necessities too. Food, clothing, shelter.

Bridge grooved through the crowd of people, feeling a wave of nausea over-take his body again. His drinking always got out of hand, especially in parties.

He looked around without thinking, snooping around for the alcohol table. He should have stopped drinking, right there and then, but the little voice in his head told him just one more. Just one more and then I'll stop. Well, that's what the little voice always said, but never promised any results.

His head felt like a balloon, about to float away as he gulped straight from a Jack Daniel's bottle. He stood there, with a slack expression and slouching limbs, thinking about nothing and staring at blank air. His feet guided him outside, the darkness of the night engulfing his small frame. He didn't know where he was going, or where his feet were taking him, but he figured it was to where he had parked his car. Where had he parked the damn car?

He walked further and further away from the building, and further into darkness. It got to the point that he couldn't even see his feet or hands; it got so bad he just closed his eyes because it still looked the same. Behind his eyes he could see bursting colors and patterns and darkness, his mouth dry and his eyelids heavy.

Bridge felt the alcohol in his system wanting to come out. He ran into what he assumed was an alleyway and collapsed onto the concrete floor, pain tingling through his body. He rested his throbbing head on one of his tattooed arms, while the other laid on the cold concrete. He stayed like that for a while, listening to the sound of light foot-steps, the wind rustling the leaves on the trees and muffled talk.

The bursting colors and patterns and darkness returned as he closed his eyes. He grew numb as drunken sleep eased his body. He counted sheep before he was out cold; the last thing he remembered was being hoisted in the air by heavy arms.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author: **Skytate17

**Title: **A Violent Tango

**Summary: **Bridge is an aspiring musician struggling to make ends meet. He turns to alcohol to solve all his problems and selling illegal substances to make enough money to get by. Sky is the complete opposite. He's an assassin who gets paid for killing unworthy people, and has earned wealth and money from his job. Everything changes when Sky meets Bridge, and Bridge becomes the only thing between Sky and his job.

* * *

_**Chapter Two**_

The drunk party-goers were all oblivious to the intoxicated guy in the alley way. They all continued their dancing, singing, kissing, smoking, ranting, all shunning the helpless man nearly dropping unconscious on the floor. Shuyler Tate didn't though. All night he had been watching the guy chug beers, waiting patiently for the moment the man surrendered.

Sky breathing quickened as the guy collapsed in the alley way, he could hear groaning sounds emerging from the guy as he came in contact with the abrasive concrete. Sky pursed his lips, inhaling before exhaling, pushing a ring of smoke from his puckered lips. He held a cigarette in between his index finger and his thumb, spinning it dangerously. "I need to quit this thing," Sky sighed before dropping the cigarette and squishing it with his right foot, turning his attention back to the boy.

Sky figured the guy was unconscious by now, or on the verge of unconsciousness. His right leg kicked into action right away, leading him towards the alley way. He always got an adrenaline rush right before his job, the power he felt, the control he felt was staggering for Sky. What was his job exactly? An assassin, a murderer, a killer, a psychopath. It was a crude, awful job that Sky had grown accustomed to.

His whole family had been in the same business, so maybe it was hereditary. His whole family had also been caught at some point or another, Sky hadn't. He was sly, quick and sneaky. He did the job quick and painless, while others enjoyed seeing their victims squirm in fear and pain, Sky often used the easy way out. Poison, strangling, the break of a neck, these were all common in Sky's techniques. That's what made him so great at his job; he spent less time slaughtering his victims, and more on his actual job.

He never knew the victims personally, because his boss arranged all the killings for him. That's how it worked. Boss got the information on the victims and Sky killed them. And it wasn't just _any_ victims. Everyone Sky killed had committed a felony, or a sin, that was Sky's only request in his job. He did not kill the innocent.

The benefits of the job weren't bad either. He earned a vast amount of cash for doing almost nothing.

The guy dropped unconscious as soon as Sky hoisted him in the air, the muscles he had been working on since his teen years flexing. The guy felt limp and weightless in his heavy arms. Some party-goers nodded at the two kindly, all thinking the same thing. The guy had gotten way too wasted, and his buddy, Sky, was there to his rescue.

Sky dumped the boy in the back seat of his car, and jumped in the driver's seat. He looked at himself in the rear-view mirror before twisting the ignition on. He always wore a sullen look on his face, he striked everyone as indifferent, with his hollow stare and strained smile. He didn't look like a killer though, most people's impressions of killers were creepy, ugly and odd. Sky was the opposite. He had a particularly manly, well defined jaw, handsome face and beautiful eyes. He was neither creepy nor odd, but he was anything but ordinary.

"Let's see who you are buddy..." Sky sighed once again, reaching over for the boy's file. He always read these files before he did anything else, it was comforting for Sky to know that there were sicker people out there than him. "Bridge Carson, huh?" He cocked an eyebrow, thumbing through the file. "A drug dealer, went to prison twice, alcoholic, sounds like my type of guy," Sky laughed. The booming music emerging from the house made it impossible for Sky to concentrate; it was so loud it seemed to shake the house's foundation.

His phone buzzed inside his pocket. "Hello?" He asked, still scanning the file.

"Do you have the kid yet?" His boss, Anubis Cruger, whispered from the other line.

"He's in the car, unconscious, the kid doesn't know how to put a damn beer down," Sky chuckled, staring at Bridge. His face looked soft and peaceful, almost making Sky sympathetic. Almost.

"That's why we gotta kill him," Cruger chuckled along.

"Who wants him dead anyways? He's only a drug dealer, I've heard worse,"

"That is none of your business, Tate. I want that kid dead by tomorrow and that's the end of the story," Cruger growled.

Sky heard Cruger's line grow dead. He became still for a moment, an awkward air lingering in the car. Sky bit his lip and robotically pulled out of the shaking house. From the corner of his eyes, he looked at the relaxed guy, sending the same wave of sympathy flying through him. "I guess this is the end of you buddy,"


	3. Chapter 3

**Author: **Skytate17

**Title: **A Violent Tango

**Summary: **Bridge is an aspiring musician struggling to make ends meet. He turns to alcohol to solve all his problems and selling illegal substances to make enough money to get by. Sky is the complete opposite. He's an assassin who gets paid for killing unworthy people, and has earned wealth and money from his job. Everything changes when Sky meets Bridge, and Bridge becomes the only thing between Sky and his job.

* * *

_**Chapter Three**_

Bridge Carson awoke in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar place, with a pounding headache and strained muscles. There was a desk beside the small bed he was on, and a chair in front. He threw the thick blanket off of him and across the room, quickly regretting it as the cold air in the room came in contact with his bare body.

The young man rushed to put on the shirt he was wearing the previous night, or the shirt he thought he was wearing the previous night. He gagged in disgust at the sight of dried vomit all over his shirt, rapidly throwing it to the other side of the room. He rummaged through the room for clean clothes, all the while, his teeth chattering and shivering.

He finally found a crisp white shirt lying in front of the bed, along with a pair of pants. He eagerly threw on the clothes, his body becoming instantly warmer. Inwardly, he laughed because the clothes hung loosely off his body, and almost ate him whole. He figures these clothes belonged to someone bigger and bulkier, certainly not him.

His throbbing temples brought him back to reality, and back to an unfamiliar room, an unfamiliar place. His frail legs dragged him outside the room, and into a bigger one, a living room. To his left was a dining room, and to his right a kitchen. The rooms were all color-coordinating, and nicely decorated, which made Bridge cringe because his place was a dump compared to this. A scream erupted from his mouth as a muscular man appeared out of the kitchen, holding a bottle of Nutella and a spoon dripping with the chocolate goo. "Who the fuck are you?!?" Bridge yelped.

Nutella man laughed and disappeared into the kitchen. Bridge could hear cupboards being opened and a the fridge door being slammed. "Where am I?" Bridge asked, entering the kitchen, to see Nutella man leaning against the counter, sucking on a spoon.

"Hey buddy, just so you know, if it wasn't for me, you would be dead by now. You dropped unconscious in some alley way and I rescued you, okay? Then I bring you to my place and then you vomit all over yourself. Then I change your clothes, put you to bed, and give you brand new clothes for you to wear. What kind of a thank you is that?" Nutella man scorned, dipping the spoon into the bottle of Nutella. "You're at my place by the way,"

Bridge's head spun wildly, increasing the pain in his temples. "Thanks, but, who are you?"

"The name's Shuyler Tate, but you can call me Sky" Sky extended his hand, shaking the other's hand forcefully. "You're Bridge Carson,"

"I am?"

"That's what the I.D in your wallet said," Sky commented.

"You have my wallet?"

"I needed to find out who you were," Sky shrugged. "Are you hungry? I'm not much of a cook but I can make some mean Nutella sandwiches,"

Bridge's stomach turned at the mention of food, sending a wave of nausea through him. "I'm not really hungry, but do you have some Tylenol or Advil or something? I have a bitch headache,"

"Oh right, hangover," Sky said, rummaging through the kitchen drawers. He pulled out a bottle of Advil, handing it over to the guy. "Do I need to give you the Advil too?" Sky laughed at the sight of the blonde struggling to just get the bottle to open.

"I have butter fingers,"

"No, what you have is a hangover," Sky mentioned, popping the bottle open instantly. Sky poured some water into a clean glass, and shoved the pills under Bridge's nose. "Do I need to feed them to you too?"

Bridge shook his head and swallowed the pills, gulping them down with the water. A lump formed in his throat as he placed the glass down on the counter, and stared at Sky wolf down the bottle of Nutella. "Do I know you?"

Sky laughed. "Probably,"

"You look familiar," Bridge announced, kneeling his elbow on the tiled counter.

"You've probably seen me around before. I travel a lot,"

"Is that your job?" Bridge questioned, flicking a straw. "To travel and stuff?"

"Part of my job," Sky laughed, causing Bridge to grimace.

"What's the other part of your job?"

Sky motioned Bridge to lean in, the man obeying the command immediately. Bridge could feel Sky's breathing on his face, as their faces inched closer, on the verge of their noses almost rubbing. "I kill," Sky whispered.

Gasp. Tumble. Groan. Black.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author: **Skytate17

**Title: **A Violent Tango

**Summary: **Bridge is an aspiring musician struggling to make ends meet. He turns to alcohol to solve all his problems and selling illegal substances to make enough money to get by. Sky is the complete opposite. He's an assassin who gets paid for killing unworthy people, and has earned wealth and money from his job. Everything changes when Sky meets Bridge, and Bridge becomes the only thing between Sky and his job.

* * *

_**Chapter Four**_

"Oh shit," Sky cursed under his breath at the sight of Bridge lying unconscious on his kitchen floor. "Shit, shit, shit," He scurried around the house, looking for a strong scent, perfume, deodorant, anything, that would - or maybe he should just kill Bridge. That would skip the unnecessary and useless explanation after wards. He should have just killed him right there in the car, last night, Bridge's neck was bare and beckoning to be strangled.

Yet, Sky didn't find the need to do it. He skidded through the living room and into the kitchen, where he saw the frail man where he last left him. The guy's eyes were closed, veins visible under his translucent skin. The man's arms were sprawled out on the tiled kitchen floor, his bare neck -pale, untouched, soft- facing towards the ceiling, in a perfect position for - death.

"I have to find some water," Sky told himself, grabbing a bucket near by and filling it to the top with water. He didn't hesitate to dump it on the man, whom sprang to life as soon as the water came in contact with his frowning face. As soon as Bridge regained consciousness, he backed away from Sky, bumping into the counter and causing the Nutella to topple down.

"If you're going to kill me please do it painlessly!" Bridge screeched, backing up further into the counter.

"I'm not going to kill you!" Sky hollered, although his gut told him to. He didn't know why, when, or how he grew so sympathetic of Bridge. Frankly, it frightened him, he thought he had grown immune to killing, and then Bridge came into the picture. It was the way Bridge was. So peaceful, quiet, fragile, a drug dealer, a criminal, so what? Sky couldn't think of a single reason someone wanted Bridge dead, and Sky couldn't think of a single reason why he cared so much.

Bridge whimpered helplessly, a splitting headache enabling him to think. "If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it already," Sky commented, Bridge wincing in response.

The two stared at each other, letting silence clog up the kitchen. Bridge was scared shitless to be in a room with a killer and Sky was scared shitless that he still hadn't done his job. The guy, still suffering from a hang over, rested his pounding head against the counter. sky contemplated about how much of a loser he was for feeling sympathy for someone.

"Why did you bring me here?" Bridge asked blankly.

Sky, who was leaning against the fridge, shifted his feet nervously. "I was supposed to kill you,"

"Why haven't you?"

"I dunno, I guess I don't see the point of killing you. Every day, I see these horrible cases. Men raping five to ten women, people killing their own family members, you're just a drug dealer. There are thousands of drug dealers in the world. If I kill you, I have to kill the rest of them," Sky explaining, absentmindedly playing with a magnet.

"I thought killers didn't have hearts," Bridge said coldly.

"Once again, a thank you would be nice," Sky shot back.

"Are you aware you just gave me a reason to report you to police?" Bridge huffed.

"Are you aware I have a reason as well, I doubt you'll wanna go back to prison for a third time. I hear third time's a charm, maybe this time you won't be so lucky and you'll end up stuck there for ever," Sky chortled. "I need a cig," He reached greedily into his pocket, fishing out a packet of cigarettes. He sucked the toxic smoke eagerly, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling.

"That shit will kill you," Bridge piped up.

"This coming from an alcoholic," Sky laughed wickedly. "Why do you sell crack anyways? Why don't you aim for something higher?"

"I dunno, it's kinda like drinking-"

"Once you begin, you can't stop," Sky finished his sentence.

A small smile crept on Bridge's gentle face. "Yeah, exactly. I mostly feel bad for the 'rents though, they're begging me to quit all this shit. They really care for me you know, and I feel like such a failure not pleasing them but sometimes the crack and the booze seems more important than my parents'."

"That's a drag," Sky replied, letting the smoke escape his mouth in plummets.

"Yeah, my dad is a cop. He's seen how miserable it is to be in prison, and that's why he wants me to steer out of trouble so much. He doesn't want me to end up locked behind bars for my whole life," Bridge said in a lazy and apathetic tone.

"He's a cop? I've met my fair share of cops. What's his name? Maybe I know him," Sky asked curiously.

"Mike Corbet,"

The cigarette Sky was holding dropped to the floor, sending it's ashes everywhere. "Your dad is Mike Corbet? _The_ Mike Corbet? Well that's fucking impossible! Mike fucking Corbet? Shit, I have to call Cruger,"


	5. Chapter 5

**Author: **Skytate17

**Title: **A Violent Tango

**Summary: **Bridge is an aspiring musician struggling to make ends meet. He turns to alcohol to solve all his problems and selling illegal substances to make enough money to get by. Sky is the complete opposite. He's an assassin who gets paid for killing unworthy people, and has earned wealth and money from his job. Everything changes when Sky meets Bridge, and Bridge becomes the only thing between Sky and his job.

* * *

_**Chapter Five**_

"Hello?" Cruger's hoarse voice asked from the other line.

"Cruger? Did you know Bridge's dad is Mike Corbet?" Sky rapidly questioned, not wanting to beat around the bush. He isolated himself, as away from Bridge as possible.

"I may have heard some rumors," The sound of heavy footsteps echoed on Cruger's line. "Why? What happened?"

"Nothing happened I was just wondering if you knew," Sky responded sheepishly.

"You haven't killed the kid yet, have you?" Cruger let out an exasperated sigh. Sky stared at his feet, dropping his head in shame. "I guess that's a no,"

"You're right," Sky said in a small, barely audible voice. He pounded his head against the wall, listening to the sound of rattling dishes from the kitchen. From the kitchen, Bridge heard the quiet sighs emerging from the killer.

"Did you call me just to remind me that you haven't killed that little bitch yet?" Cruger piped up after a long, awkward silence.

"I'm working on it,"

"Do you think you can work a little faster?" Cruger hissed "If that kid is not dead by tomorrow, I'll kill him myself,"

"I just wanted to know if you knew about him being Corbet's kid," Sky rapidly added before Cruger could end the conversation.

"Of course I knew! I know everything about my clients,"

"Clients?"

"You know what I mean," Cruger huffed.

"Whatever, it just seems a little-"

"A little what?" Cruger interjected.

"Far fetched," Sky finished.

"How so?"

"Bridge is the son of your worst enemy..."

"I don't choose who my clients are, they chose me. It's not my fault that this kid happens to be related to my arch enemy, pure coincidence,"

"Pure bullshit in my opinion!" Sky bellowed, his face reddening with anger.

"It's not your job to criticize and wonder, your job is to kill that kid! I'm not paying you to keep him around playing Checkers or whatever the fuck you two do!" Cruger bellowed.

"He's a nice kid,"

"He's none of your business,"

"Cruger,"

"Sky,"

"I can't do it," Sky sighed.

"Well you better fucking do it or you're finished," And then, just like that, Cruger hung up.

Sky sunk to the ground, his knees hugged tightly against his torso. He tried to blink away the tears forming in his blue eyes, trying to suppress the urge to cry. Everything seemed a little too fishy and coincidental for Sky. Ever since Sky knew Cruger, he knew Mike Corbet. He heard the hateful stories, the spiteful memories, everything. Mike had imprisoned Cruger for unknown reasons, unknown to Sky that is. But out of all the things Cruger mentioned, never did he talk about Mike having a son.

What if all of this was just Cruger's way of getting revenge on Mike?

Sky remained as stiff as stone until Bridge appeared in front of him, holding the half empty bottle of Nutella. "I thought you were dead," Bridge said in a bored tone, suddenly wincing at the mention of death. "I brought you some Nutella," Bridge hesitantly changed the subject, thrusting the chocolate goodness under Sky's nose.

"I'm not hungry," Sky shrugged, avoiding eye contact with the apprehensive guy.

Bridge twitched. "Is that the killer way of saying 'I'm going to kill you in your sleep' because if it is, I'd rather you strangle me or something than stab me,"

"I'm not going to kill you," Sky replied robotically. "Although I should, you're a pain in the ass,"

"Thanks for the compliment but really, remember, strangle not stab,"

"I think you want to be killed,"

"I'm tired," Bridge yawned.

"Go sleep,"

Bridge hesitated. "I'm locking the door,"

"So you give me all these tips about being strangled and not stabbed, and then you tell me you're locking your door? Where's the fun in that?" Sky laughed.

"The fun is...I sleep better with the door locked," Bridge said slyly.

"Whatever floats your boat man, whatever floats your boat,"

Bridge trudged to the little room he awakened in, locking the door almost instantly. He threw himself on the springy bed and slithered under the covers that had somehow found its way back on the bed. Even though it was only the afternoon, Bridge fell asleep mere minutes after his head touched the soft pillow.

Sky found himself sitting in the exact spot Bridge had left him for hours. His body becoming numb, his bones cracking loudly once he got up, at the sudden movement. He, much like Bridge hours before, trudged to the small room, taking out a coin out of his pocket and opening the door without much effort.

Loud snores greeted Sky as he walked further into the room. His mind was fuzzy with thoughts about dust and death and a sleeping Bridge. his eyelids were shut and his mouth was slightly ajar, exposing some of his pearly teeth. The neck, once again, was what drew Sky's attention. The perfect curve where his neck met his shoulders and collar bone, the exposed skin.

Bridge's skin was hot under Sky's touch, as Sky's hand crept up the boy's neck, towards his face and back down again. Sky's fingers expertly circled around the boy's neck, stroking the slight stubble he had. All of Sky's senses heightened when Bridge's breathing came out in chocked gasps, this encouraging Sky to tighten the grip. His breathing quickened as he pulled away, his face twisting in horror. He couldn't do it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author: **Skytate17

**Title: **A Violent Tango

**Summary: **Bridge is an aspiring musician struggling to make ends meet. He turns to alcohol to solve all his problems and selling illegal substances to make enough money to get by. Sky is the complete opposite. He's an assassin who gets paid for killing unworthy people, and has earned wealth and money from his job. Everything changes when Sky meets Bridge, and Bridge becomes the only thing between Sky and his job.

* * *

_**Chapter Six**_

Bridge snuggled closer to his pillow, wrapping his arms cozily around it. The pillow smelled great, like a mix of cologne and mint. Bridge nuzzled his nose into something hard, little prickly hairs poking his nose. It was then that Bridge felt heat radiating from his pillow. Except, it wasn't even a pillow, it was a human.

"Oh my Jesus!" He cursed, thrashing around like a dead fish, this causing him to topple off the bed and onto the hard floor. Apparently, not even all the commotion woke up Sky, who was currently sleeping on Bridge's bed. The fact that Sky had slept in the same bed as him didn't frighten Bridge, the fact that Sky was a killer and was very much capable of striking any moment did.

Sky, deep in his slumber and completely oblivious to Bridge eyeing him, continued snoring loudly and snuggling into the pillow that had taken Bridge's place. This, in Bridge's mind, was the perfect opportunity to escape.

Bridge rose to his feet, carefully and slowly, and tip-toed to the door, pulling on the door knob ... creak.

"Whuut?" Sky slurred, using his elbows to push himself upwards.

"Uh, hi!" Bridge greeted, closing the slightly open door quickly. "Morning!"

Sky let out a stifled yawn. "You were trying to escape weren't you?"

"No! Of course not! Why would you say that?"

"You have a guilt look on your face," Sky fluffed up the pillow and placed it behind his back. "The only reason I slept here was to prevent that,"

"Prevent what?"

"You escaping, of course,"

"Oh,"

Sky chuckled. "Oh? You expected something better?"

"If you're not going to kill me, then why can't I go home?" Bridge argued, pouting like a little kid.

"Go home so someone else can kill you instead? If you want, then go ahead," Sky smirked.

"You could have slept on the floor," Bridge hugged his torso with his arms.

"Can I trust you not to leave while I take a shower?" The covers on top of the bed were strewn off while Sky wobbled his way out the room and into the bathroom, with Bridge following him closely. "Hey man, I shower alone, I'm not into that bondage shit," Sky joked.

"I demand to know what's going on!" Bridge protested, stomping his right foot childishly. "What's going to happen to me? Why do you have to kill me? Who wants to kill me? Exactly, who are you?"

Slam.

"I'll tell you after my bath," Sky yelled from inside the vacant bathroom. He sighed in relief while slithering out of his shirt. With a swift motion, the water tap was open and water splashed from the faucet, filling the bathtub quickly. He nearly jumped into the boiling water when he was in the nude, savoring the warmth of the water loosening up his tense muscles.

Bridge listened as Sky splashed in the bathtub, his stomach growling and sending him signs of hunger. He hadn't eaten anything yesterday, unless you counted a spoonful of Nutella as a meal, and what he had eaten, he had vomited out already. "I feel like eating cake," He muttered to himself, letting his feet drag him in the kitchen. He then threw a hissy fit because Sky didn't have any flour and couldn't fulfill his desire to have cake. He ended up settling for some left-over cake Sky had stored in his fridge.

Inside the bathroom, Sky ran his hands through the water, moving them in circles and making the water swirl. An hour passed by, and then another, and then another, and then another until Sky's skin was shriveled and the heat in the small bathroom was too much for Sky to handle.

"Did you eat all the cake?!?" Sky shrieked at the sight of Bridge nibbling on some fruit cake.

"There's still some left in the fridge, hey you know what I just noticed. If you morph my name and your name together, it turns into Skydge, isn't that weird?" Bridge said thoughtfully.

"For sure, quick question though, why are you morphing our names together?" Sky giggled, stuffing his face with some of Bridge's untouched fruit cake.

"It can also be Bridgky, Shudge, Bridyer, but I like Skydge the best, it has a certain feel to it," Bridge nodded knowingly.

"How bored were you?"

"Hey! You were in there for like three hours! I have my reasons to be bored out of my head, and now I demand information!" Bridge's expression changed from goofy and silly to serious and tough in a matter of seconds.

"Well let's see if I remember all the questions you asked me...oh yes! Nothing is going to happen to you if you stay close to me, I don't know why I have to kill you, the boss didn't give me a reason and I have no idea who wants to kill you but I have a few guesses. Oh, and I'm Shuyler Tate, Sky for friends, 21 year old, raised in Virginia, my whole family have been assassins like me and I like to take long baths and eat fruit cake in my spare time,"

"Lovely, another question though, why haven't you killed me yet? Is this like torture or something? Do you want me to drive myself crazy?"

"I don't know why I haven't kill you yet, I guess I just don't see the point. Plus, I think my boss is up to something," Sky said through gritted teeth.

"An explanation would be nice..."

"Your father busted my boss and sent him to jail,"

"...Wow. Are you sure it's my dad?" Bridge gulped, a lump forming in his throat.

"I don't know any other Mike Corbett who's a cop, plus, my boss freaked when I mentioned your father's name, so I think he knows who you are," Sky chewed down the last piece of cake.

"...Wow, that's so...wow. So your boss doesn't like my dad?"

"Apparently not,"

"I'll make my dad send him a fruit basket or something. What type of fruits does he like?" Bridge batted his eyelashes curiously.

"Are you serious?!? We're having a conversation that could possibly save you and your father's life and all you're thinking about is a damn fruit basket?!?"

"I personally love kiwis," Bridge gushed, clapping his hands together excitedly.

"Whatever, I'm over this shit. You can leave if you want, you're not my problem anymore," Sky sighed, using his jaw to point at the door. Bridge narrowed his eyebrows in confusion, having a staring contest with Sky. "Go on, leave!" Sky huffed, pulling Bridge up by his collar and practically throwing him out the door.

"Can I at least call a cab or something?" Bridge cried before...

Slam.

Bridge's shoulders sagged. "Shit,"


	7. Chapter 7

**Author: **Skytate17

**Title: **A Violent Tango

**Summary: **Bridge is an aspiring musician struggling to make ends meet. He turns to alcohol to solve all his problems and selling illegal substances to make enough money to get by. Sky is the complete opposite. He's an assassin who gets paid for killing unworthy people, and has earned wealth and money from his job. Everything changes when Sky meets Bridge, and Bridge becomes the only thing between Sky and his job.

* * *

_**Chapter Seven**_

Bridge's eyes squinted as sunlight stabbed them, trying to readjust them after two days of being trapped in a house. He didn't know where he was or where he was going. The busy city street reminded him that he was lost and that gave him a feeling of insecurity. He looked up, for the first time, to see where Sky lived. It was an ordinary apartment building, one he had passed many nights but never thought an assassin would occupy one of the rooms...

"Hey, pretty boy, got the stuff?" A man with unruly hair and yellow tainted teeth asked Bridge with pleading eyes. Bridge recognized him as one of his customers, or one of his 'regulars', as Bridge liked to call them.

Bridge emptied out the pant pockets to reveal lint. Sky's pant pockets. "Tomorrow," Bridge reassured the glum looking man, who skulked away and disappeared into an alleyway.

The sun, bright and piecing, began to set, the sky turning a purple and pink hue before Bridge's eyes. His sneakers squeaked on the cement as he turned the corner, heading for his parents' house. Walk, walk, walk until he was facing the white house he grew up in. The garden his mother maintained, the window he had used for countless nights of sneaking out and the big tree he used to climb in his childhood.

It was just like he had seen it last, over three days ago. White, neat, proper, vacant. It still smelled like Lysol and Febreeze, his bed was still made, the laundry was folded, and the dishwasher empty. There was just one thing missing, his parents'.

The emptiness and silence in the house made it unbearable for Bridge; he had to leave as quickly as he entered in fear of loneliness taking over him. The sky roared, blackness engulfing the remainder of the sun. Droplets of rain began dropping down, one by one, on Bridge's head. They fell all around him, bouncing off his lithe body and onto the ground. The smell of wet grass thick in the air, his mother's tulips looking bruised under the heavy rain.

His vision blurred as rain hit his eyes; he squinted back at his house then at the street. His house was eerily quiet and he didn't like the thought of having to spend a night alone, in silence. And then, where could he go?

His options were limited. There was only one place, one person, who he could rely on right now. Ironically, that person was angry at him, and his killer.

The rain fell heavily and pounded on the ground. Puddles of rain mixed with mud flooded the streets, trailing along it until it fell into a sewer. Bridge, seemingly crazy for standing under heavy rainfall, squinted to see if any cars were coming. His wet eyes and the pounding rain made it nearly impossible to see. He figured it would be alright to cross; no cars ever came through his street anyways...

And then, from the corner of his eye, he saw the faint, but recognizable yellow glow of head lights. A car, black and matching the sky, swerved in front of him. The car halted and missed him, purely out of luck. He was frozen, his feet glued to the wet ground. He could only see the outline of a body inside the car, it was moving and probably cursing. Then he moved, he just glided out of the car's way, quick and easy and continued walking. He waved his hand as if to apologize at the car then sprinted out of view.

Little did Bridge know he had just missed his death because inside the car, Cruger panted in shock. The impact of the near collision sent his heart racing, his temples throbbing. He didn't know it was Bridge who he had nearly killed a minute ago, which was what he originally intended to do - but not to a stranger, or at least, who Cruger thought.

He yanked the steering wheel, exhaling deeply before regaining composure and beginning to drive again. His car skidded through the wet ground, water splashing around the tires. The near accident still played in his head, like a never ending movie. He noticed lights coming towards him, small, barely noticeable, but lights nonetheless.

There was a noise of cars crashing, and Cruger smacked into the steering wheel only to be thrown back equally as hard due to the impact. The car he had crashed to drove away, a bewildered Cruger left behind. His head was spinning, and he could feel something damp trickling down his temple. He couldn't remember anything, just that his head throbbed.

His headlights were shattered, but he didn't care, all that mattered was getting to safety. Safety. A hospital. He wasn't supposed to go to a hospital, not today at least.

He drove into an alleyway, lost, his head still spinning. He was dizzy and his bottom lip was quivering. Where was he? He drove in circles, until he found a parking lot. A car was parked in one of the spaces, looking like a blob in the rain. Cruger frantically tried to turn, but it was too late. His car rammed into the other car, sending a rush of unbelievable pain through his body. The pain was momentary, and what Cruger felt next was even worse than pain: nothing.

At that same moment, Bridge reunited with Sky, having ran the whole way to avoid getting pneumonia. The boy had recovered from the possible accident and hadn't even mentioned a word to Sky. He ate fruit cake, and talked about nothing with Sky, then made a toast to their new friendship. He remained oblivious to what occurred in the alleyway.

It was a twist in events, fate, whatever people wanted to call it. Oblivious, unsuspecting Bridge had cheated death for he was the one supposed to die minutes ago. Instead, Cruger, demanding, high and mighty, praised Cruger had.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author: **Skytate17

**Title: **A Violent Tango

**Summary: **Bridge is an aspiring musician struggling to make ends meet. He turns to alcohol to solve all his problems and selling illegal substances to make enough money to get by. Sky is the complete opposite. He's an assassin who gets paid for killing unworthy people, and has earned wealth and money from his job. Everything changes when Sky meets Bridge, and Bridge becomes the only thing between Sky and his job.

* * *

_**Chapter Eight**_

The same man who had asked Bridge for drugs was the only person who witnessed the collision in the alleyway. He was hiding behind a dumpster, trying to dodge the pouring rain when he saw a car smash into another car. He was at first speechless and then frantic. He ran to a nearby police station and back, to come face to face with a plump man and a dark-haired woman in shock, standing in front of their damaged car.

"Son of a bitch!" The man kept saying, holding his wife who seemed more disturbed by the sight than angry. "Son of a bitch! He crashed into our car! This man crashed into our car!"

An ambulance pulled into the alleyway, a medical examiner gingerly looked inside the car. The examiner checked the dead man's pulse, just in case. The plump man, used to seeing these types of accidents, rummaged through the car, looking for an I.D.

"It's my fucking day off and I have to do this," The man complained, avoiding staring at the dead body. "Aha! I found some I.D," That face, frowning, smiling, scowling, he could always recognize. That name, bold, printed, mentioned he could always recognize. The plump man gazed at the dead man inside the car, in disbelief. "His name is Anubis Cruger,"

His restless wife had a look of pity laced on her face; she didn't know who the dead man was. "I guess this just wasn't his lucky day, eh?" She whispered to her husband.

"I guess not,"

"Do you two need a ride home? Your car is not in such a good condition," One of the police officers asked the man and his wife.

He didn't recognize the police officer, and the police officer didn't seem to recognize him. "No, we live a few blocks away, we can walk,"

"Okay, but I need your name," The police officer pulled out a piece of paper and a pen.

"Mike Corbett"

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Can you believe this? No one's picking up!" Bridge cried, throwing the cellphone at Sky.

"Be careful, will you? This cellphone was expensive!" Sky swallowed the last piece of fruit cake. It was scary how much fruit cake Sky had consumed that day. "Anyways, they're probably grocery shopping or something,"

"I hope," Bridge bit the inside of his lip, feeling slightly guilty for not staying at his house. "At least it stopped raining,"

"I know, I'm glad I wasn't driving while it was raining, that calls for a serious car accident," They both laughed, unaware of the irony in that sentence.

"Whatever, I'm sure they are grocery shopping, you know my parents' and their love for food," Bridge tried to reassure himself, although he had a sickening feeling at the pit of his stomach that told him something bad was going to happen.

"Speaking of grocery shopping, I think I have to buy some more fruit cake," Sky attempted to lighten the mood.

"Yeah! It was really good, where did you get it?"

"Winn-Dixie,"

"I love that place!" Bridge gushed.

"Me too! Oh wait, sorry, my cellphone is ringing. Oh, here, it's for you,"

"Okay - wait, how do you know this is my dad's cellphone?" Bridge asked suspiciously. Sky winked in respond and let out a quiet snort. "Assassin code of secret, or something?" Sky nodded proudly. "Whatever. Hi dad,"

"Bridge!" Mike said frantically. "Are you okay? Where are you?"

"Dad, I'm okay, calm down," Bridge insisted.

"Where are you?" Mike repeated in almost a growl.

"I know where I am dad, don't worry. I went home an hour ago but you weren't there and I came back here, it's safe...and it was raining, I didn't want to get sick," Bridge knew it was impossible trying to reason with his dad in times like this, but he had to try.

"Are you crazy!?!?!" Mike hissed. Bridge could hear his father's heavy footsteps walking around the house. "Where are you? I haven't seen you in 3 days!"

"I was kidnapped," Bridge blurted, he felt a light punch on his arm from Sky. "That's my good arm!" He hit Sky back.

"What?!? I didn't touch your arm!"

"I wasn't talking to you dad, I was talking to the um...assassin," Bridge's voice lowered at the last word, coming out in almost a whisper.

"You were what?!?!"

"Dad, he's cool, he won't hurt me!"

"You're trusting an ASSASSIN!?!?" Both Bridge and Sky could hear the fury and rage in Mike's voice. Sky squirmed in his seat, blushing a deep red.

"Dad, calm down, he won't hurt me,"

"That's what they all say, and then they betray you and kill you! Bridge, don't trust him and come home right now, take the phone with you just in case you get in trouble and you need to call us. Did you hear me?" The steady breathing of Mike echoed through the phone. "Did you hear me?!?"

"I can't take the phone...it's not mine,"

"Well, then, whose is it?"

"Sky's," Sky perked up at the mention of his name.

"Sky...Sky? Is he the assassin?" Silence. "He's the assassin, isn't he? You know your fucking assassin's name?!? What else do you know about him, huh? What's his sign? Do you know that? Where's he from?"

"Virginia," Bridge huffed, rapidly regretting answering his father's question.

"Bridge Carson Corbett, you come home right now or I will have the police arrest this Sky from Virginia fellow," Mike said threateningly.

"Fine,"

"I'm just doing what's best for you. Don't trust this Sky fellow, just come home,"

"Fine," Mike's phone line died, a sullen Bridge staring directly into the cellphone screen. "I have to leave,"

"I figured," Sky's voice sounded...disappointed?

"Thanks for sparing my life, you know? I owe you,"

Sky couldn't respond. He knew that by letting Bridge go back to his family, Cruger would kill both Bridge and Sky. He should have never gotten himself into such a mess. "Do you want me to give you a ride there?"

"It stopped raining,"

"I know, I was just offering," Sky shrugged.

"Sure, just don't come out of the car, my dad might try to kill you,"

As Sky grabbed his jacket, and Bridge disposed the dirty dishes in the dish washer, a loud knock was heard from the door. The two men locked eyes and shared confused glances. Sky threw on his jacket and opened the door, Bridge hiding slightly behind him. "Yes?" Sky asked, looking up and down at the police officers frowning in front of him.

"Are you Shuyler...Tate?" Sky winced, his worst fear unfolding before his eyes. Mike must have called the cops on Sky, he must have, why else would there be police officers standing in front of his apartment?

"Yes, I am,"

The shorter police man stared up at the taller police man, awaiting some type of signal or something. "Do you know Anubis Cruger?" The shorter police man mispronounced Cruger's name.

"Yeah," Oh shit.

The taller police man felt the nervous tension bouncing off of Sky. "He was found dead in an alleyway not too long ago, a car crash, died instantly. I'm really sorry,"


	9. Chapter 9

**Author: **Skytate17

**Title: **A Violent Tango

**Summary: **Bridge is an aspiring musician struggling to make ends meet. He turns to alcohol to solve all his problems and selling illegal substances to make enough money to get by. Sky is the complete opposite. He's an assassin who gets paid for killing unworthy people, and has earned wealth and money from his job. Everything changes when Sky meets Bridge, and Bridge becomes the only thing between Sky and his job.

* * *

_**Chapter Nine**_

Sky's hands shook as he reared his car into Bridge's driveway. From Bridge's house he could hear the shrill sound of sirens and see the trail of police cars lined up along the street. Bridge, who was equally as nervous as his friend, opened the car door and removed his seat belt. "Well, thanks for everything man, I appreciated all of it," Bridge sighed, unsure of what to say especially since this might be their good-bye.

Sky remained silent, while Bridge poked his finger through a hole on his shirt. "If I never see you again, good luck with everything and thanks again," Bridge awkwardly glanced at Sky, contemplating whether he should hug the man or just leave. He figured a simple pat on the back would show his gratitude. Sky tensed up under his touch, increasing the awkward tension in the car. Bridge instantly pulled his hand away and jumped out of the car, knocking three times on the front door before Sky was gone.

Sky pulled up in front of the scene, his mind still fuzzy from the news. It was then he saw Cruger's car, damaged and destroyed, peeking from behind a mess of police officers. He jolted out of the car and ran through the buzzing crowd; his fists clenched and face twisting in agony. "Cruger!" He called out, shoving a police officer out of the way, and climbing into Cruger's car.

A few people gasped, but most of them lunged towards Sky and tried to pull him back but it was too late, Sky was already curled up in a ball besides Cruger's corpse. Sky took it all in, staring through glassy eyes at his boss. His boss was dead. Sky's pale eyelids closed, and opened just in time to witness a police officer reaching out to grab him.

"Who did this!?!" Sky shouted, bending over and landing on the wet ground. "I want to know who did this!"

"No one did sir. It was an accident, a car accident," One of the police officers coaxed, stepping a safe distance away from the raging Sky.

"Someone must have done this! Cruger is a great driver, he wouldn't crash into anything, someone must have done something!" He cried.

"Sir, it was raining and the road was wet, he could have easily slipped or lost control of the steering wheel,"

"Lost control of the steering wheel? Into a fucking car?" Sky sniffled, eyeing his boss' car driven into another car.

"We don't know how it happened but our biggest guess is that he couldn't see through the rain and didn't see the other car," The police officer gulped, frightened by Sky's large size and anger.

Instead of pouncing the idiotic police officer, which is what Sky wanted, he didn't find the strength. He merely hugged his feet against his torso, and rocked back and forth. "Maybe he's not dead, are you sure he's dead?"

"We're sure, our medical team announced him dead already. He died instantly,"

"Un-fuckin'-believeable!" Sky cussed, burying his head into his hands.

"Thank God Mike found his I.D, or else we would still be stuck here wondering who this man is," Sky overheard the police officer tell someone.

"Mike...?" Sky shot up. "Mike Corbett?"

"The one and only, man's a legend!" Another police officer boomed. "And you should have seen the look on his face when he saw this Cruger fellow, he went pale. I guess he's never seen such a tragic accident,"

"He went pale?" Sky said through gritted teeth.

"Yes Sir, poor guy looked like he had just seen a ghost,"

"Yeah, poor guy," Sky managed to choke out, suddenly regretting upsetting Cruger. He should have listened to his boss, he should have had better judgment than to think Bridge was innocent, or even Mike was innocent. He should have killed Bridge the first night, and he should have trusted his boss when he said the Carson's were bad people. He should have done a lot of things he didn't do. And for what? Sure Bridge was alive and well, but what about him? What had _he_ gained out of all things? His boss was dead, and he was alone.

"That son of a bitch killed Cruger," Sky whispered to himself, unaware of the crowd staring directly at him. He shunned them and practically ran out of the alleyway, sprinting in the direction of Bridge's house and further away from his car.

His breathing quickened and all his thoughts jumbled together as he neared the familiar house. He tried to speak but everything came out in incoherent sentences. He rammed his fist against the front door, waiting for someone to come out. Sky was looking down when the door swung open, he then saw the shoes, _his_ shoes. "Sky, what are you doing here?" Bridge hissed.

Sky ignored the smaller man and pushed him aside, gaining entrance to the house. "Where's your dad?" Sky asked frantically, picking up Bridge by the collar of his shirt.

Their faces were inches apart, their noses rubbing. Bridge could feel Sky's stubble scratching his face. "In the kitchen, why?"

"You dad killed my fuckin' boss."


	10. Chapter 10

**Author: **Skytate17

**Title: **A Violent Tango

**Summary: **Bridge is an aspiring musician struggling to make ends meet. He turns to alcohol to solve all his problems and selling illegal substances to make enough money to get by. Sky is the complete opposite. He's an assassin who gets paid for killing unworthy people, and has earned wealth and money from his job. Everything changes when Sky meets Bridge, and Bridge becomes the only thing between Sky and his job.

* * *

_**Chapter Ten**_

The exact moment Bridge's foot stepped inside the white house; his mother lunged towards him and embraced him. He savored the scent of his home, the scent of his mother's hair, the scent of his father's cologne nearby.

That was five minutes before Sky stormed into the living room.

Bridge stood, numbed, at the front door. His left hand glued to the knob, and his eyes bulging out of their sockets. Incoherent thoughts raced through his mind. His dad would never kill anyone. Right? His dad only killed bad people. And Cruger was bad, he forced people to kill for a living. That was bad. That was horrible! His dad had a right to kill Cruger. His dad was trying to help the community by killing a notorious killer. Right?

"You killed Cruger!" Sky heard from the living room. Something fell and shattered in the room, one of his mother's vases.

It was when Bridge darted into the living room, that he saw Sky's puffy eyes. They were red, swollen, and tear-streaked. He looked exhausted and miserable and his flaring nostrils didn't help his unappealing appearance.

"What the fuck is your problem, Sky?" Bridge spat. "Two days ago you were talking about how Cruger was trying to kill my Dad, and now you're turning the tables?"

"Two days ago, I was delusional," Sky hissed.

"Cruger died in a car accident," Mike added quickly, struggling to defend himself. "The medical staff announced him dead due to the impact of-"

"Crashing into another car? _Your_ car? That sounds pretty far-fetched to me," Sky flailed his arms in the air.

"That sounds like a coincidence," Bridge narrowed his eyebrows, receiving the same look from the other man. "My dad did not kill Cruger, he killed himself, it was an accident, get over it!"

"My boss is dead, how can I get over that?!?" Sky screeched, grabbing an aquamarine vase and aiming for Bridge's head. The man ducked and missed the flying vase hit the wall, and shatter into a thousand little pieces.

"Hey, that was my Mom's good China!" Bridge huffed.

"Son," Mike tenderly approached Sky. "It's not my fault Cruger is dead, nor did I want him dead. Sure, our past has been rocky, but we put it all aside,"

"Apparently, Cruger didn't think so!" Sky sneered. "Mike, do you know what my job is?"

"...An assassin..." Mike cringed.

"Good, now, do you know what Cruger's job is?"

"...Your boss..." _Twitch._

"Okay, and my boss tells me who to kill, right?"

"...Right..." _Grimace._

"And Cruger told me to kill Bridge, right?"

"...Um..." _Scowl._

"He did, he certainly did. Now tell me, why?"

"I have no idea why he would want Bridge dead, if anything, he would want _me_ dead,"

"Don't you think Cruger would prefer to see you suffer and mourn over a dead son than to just see you...dead?" Sky let the last word linger. "I want to know why Cruger hates you so much,"

Bridge urged his father to speak up. Mike shuffled his feet, uncomfortably and awkwardly, while trying to swallow the lump forming in his throat. "I arrested Cruger for something he did not do, for something _I_ did. I couldn't go to jail though, Bridge was young, and my wife needed me, plus I had a steady job. Cruger had a coke addiction and porn stacked under his bed. And to think, we used to be the best of friends', he was even in the hospital when Bridge was born. I betrayed my best friend, and I guess he never got over that,"

Bridge ran his spindly fingers through his hair, messing it up slightly. He was baffled. His own dad a liar? A back-stabber? He couldn't process it. Cruger was supposed to be the bad guy, not his father.

Sky let out a sigh. He was exhausted. He was sick. He just wanted to get out of this mess. He was tired of being confused and feeling guilty, he just wanted to shove everything to the back of his mind and let it rot. He wasn't a quitter, but this was all for his own sanity.

"If you don't mind me interrupting your heart-warming family moment, how about we just forget this whole thing? Let's pretend nothing ever happened and continue our lives, eh?" Sky offered.

Silence dwelled in the room. "So I guess that's a yes," Sky looked at the three family members. "I never happened, _this_ never happened. Nothing ever happened, okay? If I find out you told someone about this, I will personally kill you. Don't make me change my mind, okay? I'm going to move far, far away from you all, so I can never see you again, and so we can forget all about this faster. Okay? Don't look for me, if you see me, don't acknowledge me, pretend I never existed, okay?"

Bridge averted his eyes to the broken vase. He didn't dare to make eye contact with the assassin, he couldn't handle it. As Sky's sneakers squeaked to the front door, and out, Bridge felt a wave of relief extend through his body. It was all over. He was going to forget everything that happened. He had already forgotten him. Sky Tate, who?


	11. Chapter 11

**Author: **Skytate17

**Title: **A Violent Tango

**Summary: **Bridge is an aspiring musician struggling to make ends meet. He turns to alcohol to solve all his problems and selling illegal substances to make enough money to get by. Sky is the complete opposite. He's an assassin who gets paid for killing unworthy people, and has earned wealth and money from his job. Everything changes when Sky meets Bridge, and Bridge becomes the only thing between Sky and his job.

* * *

_**Chapter Eleven**_

The snack shack at the airport was deserted; everyone had closed the day already with ice-cream and sodas. Behind the counter sat Bridge Carson, bored and playing with an empty bag of chips. He blew a strand of hair that had fallen in front of his face away, twirling the bag of chips and sending tiny crumbs flying everywhere.

This was his new job. A job that didn't require brains or moving a muscle, so Bridge loved it. He mostly worked behind the counter, preparing ice-cream for people or just chatting with them. Sometimes, it was hard due to some tourists not knowing English, but they always found a way to converse.

But at times, like today, he cursed his job. It was midnight and the snack shack's usual costumers were all gone, usually it was buzzing with life and now it was dead silent. Still, it was better than his previous job. His drug-dealing days were over, and this job was the next best thing he could find.

He had given up his job about a year ago, maybe a little longer, around the same time Sky left. The whole assassin ordeal was still unbelievable to him, and there were so many questions he longed to ask but no one longed to answer. His dad refused to tell him anything, and Sky, well, he was gone.

For the past year, his father had been looking to arrest Sky, but no records were found. Nothing. It was like Sky Tate never existed. His father reassured him that the son of a bitch was dead, Bridge, on the other hand, refused to believe it.

Truth be told, he had never forgotten about Sky. He had fooled himself to thinking he had, but never did. It was hard trying to erase Sky from his memory; the man had saved his life and ruined it at the same time.

As the minutes passed in the small snack shack, Bridge became more and more sleepy. His head dropped on the counter and his heavy eyelids closed shut. He didn't hear the bell at the front door ring, or the door slam shut seconds later, his exhaustion drawing him further and further into a slumber.

And then something was dropped on the counter, the loud thumping noise awakening Bridg in fright.

"What the hell?" Bridge slurred, rubbing his half-closed eyes. Through his squinting eyes, he could see a pair of bulky shoulders. Bridgee reached out to grab the items laying on the counter, but was stopped by the costumer's hand smacking his own hand away.

"Nevermind, I'm not hungry anymore," The voice trailed off, and then the _squeak, squeak, squeak_ of only one custom made pair of shoes echoed through the empty room.

"...Sky?" Bridge piped up, rising from his seat slightly. The customer, who was heading for the door, stopped abruptly and turned to face Bridge. The face, the eyes, the nose, the lips, the arms, it was all the same.

"I thought I told you to never acknowledge me if you saw me!" Sky growled before darting out of the store.

"Sky, wait!" One of Bridge's specialties was acting before thinking, and that would be the only reasonable explanation to what he did next.

He began chasing the past.

Up and down hallways, weaving through people, dodging the suitcase cart, he managed to get lost in the mob of tourists with Sky nowhere in sight. His eyes darted around the room, an unsteady feeling overpowering his body as soon as his eyes landed on Sky.

"Damnit," He whimpered as an old Asian lady accidentally whacked him with one of her suitcases. She was quick to apologize in her native tongue, while Bridge continuously reassured her that everything was okay. "I have to go now," He mouthed to her before running away and painfully crashing his lower region into Sky's suitcase.

"Damnit!" Bridge doubled over and cradled back and forth, his hands protectively wrapped around his throbbing inner thigh. "You hit my nuts, man!" Bridge cried, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to make the pain go away.

"Bridge, I have a plane to catch," Sky hissed, his face heating up at the sight of people watching the scene form. Bridge watched Sky hand his plane ticket to a flight attendant, only to have the flight attendant thrust it back into his hand.

"Your flight has been delayed, there's a freak storm going on up there," The flight attendant popped her gum.

A smirk crept on Bridge's face. "I guess you're stuck here, eh?"

Sky sighed and brushed past the smiling man, walking him back to the snack shack. "How cheap are you? I would have thought you got new shoes by now, considering those are super old," Bridge sneered, as he took a seat. "And I see they still squeak,"

"Fuck off, these shoes have sentimental value," Sky grunted, awkwardly standing as far away from Bridge as possible. He picked at the lint in his pocket in hope that that would distract him from his growling stomach.

"Are you hungry?"

Sky averted his eyes from the food stacked in shelves to Bridge. "No,"

"Apparently your stomach didn't get that memo," Bridge opened one of the drawers in the counter to reveal his stash. He fingered through all the choices, before finally deciding on some fruit cake. "Just like old times," Bridge grinned.

"...You have fruit cake in that drawer?" Sky furrowed his eyebrows.

"So, where were you going anyways?" Bridge yawned.

"None of your business," Sky snarled.

Silence clogged the room, sometimes interrupted by the sounds of Sky chewing and swallowing. Bridge couldn't help but noticed how much Sky had aged in the past year. His facial hair needed serious trimming, and he had purple bags under his eyes.

"So, Sky, if that's even your real name..."

"I'm trying to eat," Sky grunted, concentrating on the fruit cake he was greedily nibbling on. The fruit cake tasted a little bit funky, but Sky was so hungry he devoured it in seconds.

"You aren't going to...kill me, are you?" Bridge squirmed.

"I wouldn't kill you, in public anyways," Sky winked, licking the crumbs off his fork. "And I couldn't help but notice your dad tried to arrest me, tell him nice try,"

"They couldn't find any records or anything on you," Bridge said with the slightest hint of curiosity in his voice.

"I've told you too much already," Sky stood up, brushing off the non-existent crumbs off his cargo pants. He threw the empty plate into a garbage can nearby, and extended his hand. "It was nice seeing you again Bridge, if you tell anyone about this; I'll personally poison your fruit cake,"

"You're going?" Bridge pouted, rummaging his mind for excuses for Sky to stay. He felt extremely lonesome, and he wanted someone to talk to, and he also had a lot of questions he wanted to ask Sky.

Sky nodded, his eyes closing for a brief moment. "Thanks for the food,"

"Before you go, can I ask you something?" Bridge jumped to his feet, scrambling to go around his desk so that his body was inches away from Sky's.

"No,"

"Did you find out who wanted me dead? Was it Cruger's plan all along? Am I safe?" Bridge ushered his words into a jumbled mess, biting his tongue to stop himself from blurting more questions.

"I don't trust you with the answer to the questions," Sky sighed. "I trusted you and your family to follow what I said, and what happened? Your father tried to arrest me. I learned not to trust a drug dealer," Sky finished coldly.

"I quit," Bridge said in a small, defeated voice. Sky's words were like blows to the stomach for him, especially if they were hurtful.

"Scum is always scum," Sky's lips folded into a sly smirk, enjoying the effect he had on Bridge.

Anger boiled deep in Bridge's loins, he clenched his fists, making the vein on his arm pop out slightly. "Takes scum to know scum," He hissed, swinging out his arm in an attempt to hit Sky but missing.

Sky, who had dodged Bridge's arm, doubled over on the floor, his stomach groaning uncontrollably. He squeezed his eyes shut, moaning incoherent sentences. "My stomach hurts," He managed to choke out.

Bridge screeched and broke into his panic mood, pondering what he should do. He picked up the phone, and began dialing some numbers. "Don't call," Sky gasped out.

"But you're dying!" Bridge cried.

"I think it's just a little, oh God, I think I'm going to be sick!" Bridge thrust the garbage can in front of Sky, as the vomit spewed out. Bridge rubbed Sky's back sympathetically and guiltily.

What the fuck was in the cake?


	12. Chapter 12

**Author: **Skytate18

**Title: **A Violent Tango

**Summary: **Bridge is an aspiring musician struggling to make ends meet. He turns to alcohol to solve all his problems and selling illegal substances to make enough money to get by. Sky is the complete opposite. He's an assassin who gets paid for killing unworthy people, and has earned wealth and money from his job. Everything changes when Sky meets Bridge, and Bridge becomes the only thing between Sky and his job.

* * *

_**Chapter Twelve**_

After the vomiting had ceased, Bridge dragged Sky into the backroom and scrambled to clean the mess in the snack shack. As a finishing touch, he sprayed some Febreeze to cover up the smell of vomit.

"Looks good," He commented, nodding his head approvingly. He heard a grunt emerging from the backroom, which only reminded him of how ill Sky was. "Are you sure you don't want to go to a hospital or something?" Bridge bit his bottom lip, sick to his stomach at the sight of how weak Sky looked.

"I'm fine," Was all Sky could muster.

Bridge let out a deep sigh, and rummaged through the cabinets for something to wipe Sky's face with. He settled on a box of Baby Wipes, not even stopping to think why there would be Baby Wipes stacked in a snack shack.

He walked around and knelt down besides Sky, pulling out a Baby Wipe and dabbing it on the man's damp face. Sky inwardly groaned, attempting to hoist himself up using his elbows, but failing miserably and sliding into a slouch.

"Did you poison the cake?" Sky asked in almost a whisper. Although it was merely a whisper, it still frightened Bridge. Sky could easily pummel him, sick or healthy.

"No!" Bridge shook his head and continued the dabbing process, moving to the other side of Sky's face. He ran the moist towel over Sky's lip, scrubbing off all the dried vomit.

Once he was finished, he threw away the dirty Baby Wipes and made Sky clean his mouth with some mouthwash and breathmints. "You look ... clean," Bridge commented, patting the top of Sky's head.

Sky muttered something Bridge couldn't understand, before rolling over onto the cold floor. "Cold," Sky mumbled, shaking slightly.

Bridge ran to the front desk and grabbed his jacket, then placed it on top of Sky. "I'll see if I find something better," He said in a hasty voice, not wanting anything else than to please Sky at the moment.

Sky wrapped the jacket around his body, smelling the scent of mint and cologne on it. The warmth the jacket was giving him was not enough, and he was still freezing. His head was spinning and he was nauseous, and he wanted nothing more than to sleep but the blinding light and the coldness didn't let him.

He then felt warmth spread through his body, as well as something thick and heavy on top of him. He reached for it and noticed it was a wool blanket, and under his head was a pillow.

"I knew stealing these would come in handy one day!" Bridge beamed. He had kept the spare pillow and blanket just in case he had to work a night shift and he wanted to get a quick sleep.

"Can you turn off the lights?" Sky said into the pillow.

Bridge nodded, even though Sky had his eyes closed. He reached for the switch and flipped it off, the darkness engulfing Sky whole. In less than a minute, he heard snores erupting from his friend, as he chuckled quietly.

Bridge stifled a yawn as he walked back to the front desk, determined to stay awake. He was going to find out what was wrong with that fruit cake, and, he had to stay awake to take care of Sky, in case something happened.

He tapped his fingers against the counter. There was no left over cake he could examine, and Sky's plate was in the garbage can, along with his vomit. He whistled a tune to keep himself awake.

"Maybe..." He reached for the fruit cake container, and flipped it to the back. His eyes went straight for the expiration date. "Crap," He sighed and threw the container across the room.

"The fruit cake's expiration date was over two months ago!" He said to himself, throwing his arms in the air hopelessly. "Stupid Bridge, real stupid!"

He was basking in his own self pity when he heard shuffling from the back room. Alarmingly, he ran into the back room and turned on the lights to come face to face with Sky slithering out of his clothes. "Sky, what are you doing?" Bridge said, averting his eyes to the wall.

"Sorry, I'm used to sleeping in my boxers," Sky yawned, yanking his pants fully off and throwing them at Bridge. He snuggled the pillow, rolling over so that he was on his stomach.

"Whatever, just, don't get naked..." Bridge blushed. "Oh, and I know what made you sick. The fruit cake was expired,"

"Mhm, let me sleep," Sky hummed, his voice muffled by his pillow.

Bridge grinned sheepishly as he left the room, trailing back to his seat. He let his head hang before completely dropping it on the counter. The loud snores coming from the back room eased his nerves. Everything that was clouding his mind vanished as soon as his eyes closed.


	13. Chapter 13

**Author: **Skytate18

**Title: **A Violent Tango

**Summary: **Bridge is an aspiring musician struggling to make ends meet. He turns to alcohol to solve all his problems and selling illegal substances to make enough money to get by. Sky is the complete opposite. He's an assassin who gets paid for killing unworthy people, and has earned wealth and money from his job. Everything changes when Sky meets Bridge, and Bridge becomes the only thing between Sky and his job.

* * *

_**Chapter Thirteen**_

"Carl Faller, if you are in the airport, we need you to board your plane. That's Carl Faller," A female voice said through the speakers, awakening Bridge from his slumber. He yawned and stretched his limbs, groggily getting up and checking his wristwatch. One more hour until his shift was over, which meant he had to wake up Sky soon.

"Carl Faller, this is your last call, please board your plane. Carl Faller," The lady spoke in a monotone voice, her bored tone irritating an already irritated Bridge. He decided to clean out his stash, just in case there was left over spoiled food in there. The only thing he decided to keep was some gummy worms which he had bought the previous night.

He bit on a gummy worm, getting the chewy substance stuck in his teeth. He walked into the backroom to be greeted by Sky's light snores. "Aw," Bridge giggled at the sight of the man cuddling with his pillow peacefully.

"Carl Faller," The lady announced for a last time before the speaker went off.

Bridge let out a sigh of relief. He hated the damn speaker. It was so loud and obnoxious, and it woke him up a total of 3 times during the night.

He checked his wristwatch one more time before exhaling. "Sky...wake up," He sang. The man merely stirred and turned his back on Bridge. "Sky, I have to leave in 54 minutes, wake up!" He shook Sky's shoulder before the man grunted.

"I'm up," He groaned, struggling to get up. The stomach pains had gone away, but he still felt drained. "Pass me my clothes," He yawned, extending his hand and grabbing the air.

Bridge searched the room for Sky's clothes, and found them in a corner. "Thanks," Sky murmured while slipping on his shirt and cargo pants, Bridge looking away immediately. "Have they called my plane yet?" Sky asked, tying his shoelaces.

"Not yet, I would know, that damn speaker woke me up 3 times last night," Bridge grumbled, devouring a gummy worm. "Gummy worms?" He offered, extending the packet.

Sky scoffed and continued tying his shoes. "I'm never taking food from you again," Sky wobbled to his feet, using Bridge's head to support him. "I knew short people were good for something!" He said sarcastically, patting Bridge's head.

Bridge faked a chuckle and rolled his eyes, trotting away from Sky. "Oh come on, it was a joke! I love short people!" Sky called out after Bridge, trying to catch up with him.

"I'm not a leprechaun!" Bridge cried, stealing a soda from one of the soda machines. "Crap, I'm going to have to pay for this," He remember, emptying out his pockets. No money, just lint. "Crap, now it's gonna have to come out of my pay check,"

"You see, I would pay for that if you hadn't _poisoned_ me," Sky hissed.

"It was an accident, I didn't know it expired," Bridge insisted.

"Well, you food poisoned me nonetheless," Sky sneered, walking amidst the shelves of food. He settled for milk, and chugged it in an instant. "By the way, buy me this," He held the empty milk carton.

Bridge's bottom lip twitched. "I'll go find you some Aspirin,"

Bridge disappeared into the backroom, coming out seconds later, an Aspiring bottle in hand. He popped off the cap and handed Sky two Aspirins. "Take more milk if you want, I feel like shit for making you sick," Bridge shrugged.

"It's okay, I'll pay for it," Sky answered, a small smile laced on his face. Bridge smiled back as he watched Sky gulp down the Aspirin.

"So, how come the police didn't find any records on you?" Bridge asked, hoisting himself up on the counter and crossing his legs Indian style.

Sky smirked playfully, shrugging. "I can't tell you that, assassin's code of secret," He winked.

"Whatever," Bridge chortled. "I think you erased your records and got a new identity, I've seen that done on movies before, I've always wanted to change my name into another name, y'know?"

"Mhm, as long as your dad thinks I'm dead," Sky spun the empty milk carton on the floor where he was sitting.

"He does, he's convinced himself you're dead,"

Sky swallowed. He blankly stared at Bridge, then at Bridge's feet. When did his plane leave? Oh God, what if his plane left already without him? "Bridge, are you sure they didn't call my plane?" Sky bit the inside of his lip.

"Well, I wouldn't know that since you refused to tell me where you were going," Bridge huffed. "They did keep calling this Carl Faller guy though, they called him for an hour straight,"

Sky choked on his saliva, causing his eyes to bulge out of their sockets. "What?" He gasped, bouncing to his feet. "When?"

"An hour ago, or so," Bridge shrugged, not noticing the frantic stage Sky was in.

"Crap!" Sky shrieked, lunging forward and grabbing his carry-on luggage.

"What's wrong?" Bridge narrowed his eyebrows, curiously.

Sky released a sigh. "Bridge, _I'm_ Carl Faller,"


	14. Chapter 14

**Author: **Skytate18

**Title: **A Violent Tango

**Summary: **Bridge is an aspiring musician struggling to make ends meet. He turns to alcohol to solve all his problems and selling illegal substances to make enough money to get by. Sky is the complete opposite. He's an assassin who gets paid for killing unworthy people, and has earned wealth and money from his job. Everything changes when Sky meets Bridge, and Bridge becomes the only thing between Sky and his job.

* * *

_**Chapter Fou**__**rteen**_

Bridge stared at the floor, baffled and confused. "I thought you were Sky Tate," He said in a low, raspy voice as Sky sighed and gazed at the floor tiles.

He counted the tiles, one, two, three, four, five, until Bridge snapped two fingers in front of his face. He raised his head and stared glumly at Bridge, who was staring glumly back. "I am Sky Tate," He finally responded, letting the awkward air in between the two decrease a little.

"Then, who's Carl Faller?" Bridge questioned, punching his fist on the counter lightly. "I'm confused," Bridge piped up after Sky refused to say anything, and remained quiet.

"Me," Sky flinched.

"Then why did you tell me your name was Sky Tate?"

"That's my birth name," Sky groaned, sliding down to the floor and crossing his legs. "Carl is a fake name, I changed my name after Cruger ... " He winced and gulped, avoiding the last word like mold.

"You changed your name?" Everything in Bridge's mind clicked now. Sky had changed his name so his father couldn't find him. "Did you change...anything else?"

Sky grinned. "I was born in North Carolina to a widow. My father died in a car accident two months before I was born, and I was raised in a farm where I helped my mom in her horse training business. I moved to L.A to pursue my music career only to move back to North Carolina when producers refused to sign me,"

Bridge gnawed on the insides of his mouth. "That's a nice...story," He finally said, unzipping and zipping his sweater nervously.

"Hey, don't tell Mike, okay? I don't feel like changing all over again," Sky chuckled softly, clutching his carry-on bag against his chest. "I'm going to go find out when the next plane leaves,"

"Yeah, and I should clean up, my boss is going to be here any minute," Bridge scratched his head; a bit upset and relieved that Sky was leaving.

"If my plane leaves in like...a couple of hours, you want to go get coffee or something?" Sky bit his lip, anxiously awaiting an answer. He didn't have a clue to why he wanted to spend time with Bridge, nor did he know why he felt so secure and comfortable around the man.

He was supposed to _hate_ him, right? The man had practically ruined his life, he was the reason his boss was dead and the reason his carrier was in the toilet. He should want the man dead, yet, he wanted to get coffee with him.

"Coffee sounds nice, I'm going to need some after only getting an hour of sleep last night," Bridge grunted, a craving for coffee suddenly awakening him. "Go find out your plane information, and meet me back here, my shift ends in a couple of minutes anyways,"

Sky left and returned minutes later, his carry-on luggage still tucked under his arm. "They screamed at me for not boarding the plane when I had a chance," He frantically spat, slicking his hair back.

"What did you tell them?" Bridge asked, curiously.

"The truth. I was food poisoned," Bridge gasped, which sent Sky into hysterics. "I didn't tell them who poisoned me though, but they believed me, my plane leaves in six hours so ...,"

"Let's go get coffee," Bridge jumped from his stool as a young man entered the shop. "Oh hey Boom, boss, Boom boss!" Bridge waved at the man who gazed at Sky suspiciously. "This is Sky," Sky cleared his throat and shook Boom's hand.

"Am I interrupting something?" Boom squirmed, placing his jacket on the counter.

"No," Bridge and Sky responded in unison.

"Why does it smell like Febreeze in here?" Boom asked, sniffing the air, his face scrunched up.

"Uh, Sky vomited," Bridge smiled, while Sky nudged him in the ribs.

Boom narrowed his eyebrows. "Whatever," He shrugged, and vanished into the backroom, coming out seconds later holding a blanket and a pillow. "What's this?" He shot, shaking both items. "What were you two doing back there?"

"Sky spent the night in there, he was really sick," Bridge bit his lip, mentally slapping himself for forgetting to clean the backroom.

Boom shook his head furiously. "Whatever," Then he disappeared into the backroom again.

"Great, now my boss thinks I was having sex," Bridge sighed, sweeping past Sky and leading him to the nearest coffee shop. "Why is it that when I tell the truth, no one believes me, but when I lie, everyone believes me?" Bridge cried. "Last week I lied to Boom about stealing a soda, and he believed me!"

Sky opened the door, allowing Bridge to step in before mimicking his actions. "Do I have to start calling you Carl?"

"No," Sky laughed, ordering two cups of coffee and leading Bridge to an empty booth.

There was scarcely anyone in the shop, the few busy-bodies scattered around in different booths all had their faces hidden behind newspapers or books.. It was pretty serene and silent, the sounds of chatting and shuffling of newspapers filling the air.

"So, who was that on the phone, a new boss?" Bridge poked his tongue into the steamy coffee, pulling it out instantly as the hotness came in contact with his tongue.

"More like..a friend," Sky sipped his coffee like it was nothing, like he was immune to the heat.

"A lady friend?" Bridge wiggled his eyebrows jokingly, taking his first sip of the coffee and burning his mouth.

"No," Sky shook his head. "More like a ... boyfriend,"

Bridge choked on the bit of coffee in his mouth, the coffee sending a burning sensation trickling down his throat. "A boyfriend?" Sky... gay?

"Why are you acting so surprised? I took a quiz one time to see how gay I was and I got a perfect gay score," Sky replied calmly, gulping down his coffee. "I thought everyone knew by now, people tell me I have a certain gay air about me,"

"I wouldn't necessarily call it...gay air," Bridge muttered, sipping on his coffee so it gave him a reason not to talk. Sky shrugged and finished his coffee, a wave of excitement thrilling his body. Coffee sure knew how to make Sky happy.

Bridge, not so much. He lingered and savored every mouthful of coffee, purposely, so the two men wouldn't have to converse. He let the awkward tension brew between the two, until his coffee was cold and there was none left.

"If I knew me being gay would make you uncomfortable, I wouldn't have even mentioned it," Sky sighed, rubbing his temples gently.

"I'm not uncomfortable," Bridge grimaced, longingly staring at his empty cup of coffee, hoping it would refill magically and save him from the conversation.

"Whatever, let's just change the conversation," Sky mumbled. "So, what's new with you?"

Bridge cocked an eyebrow. "Well, I got a new job, I quit being a drug dealer, what else? Oh, I found out Boom's a homophobe, um,"

"I don't think Boom is the only one with homophobe problems," Sky blinked seriously.

"I thought we were changing the subject," Bridge groaned, flicking a straw at Sky, who flicked it back.

"Whatever" Sky rolled his pale green eyes and stared at the table. "So, did you replace your drug dealing days with a new ladyfriend?"

"More like porn and my new job, oh and my Mom's chocolate chip cookies!" Bridge gushed, his taste buds going crazy at the thought of the freshly baked sweet.

"Wow..." Sky said in shock. "So, you don't have a special lady in your life?"

Bridge pondered on the question. He knew it would come sooner or later, and he knew he had to tell Sky the truth. Sky had trusted him with his secret, and he should do the same. "I would, but there's just one problem,"

Sky locked eyes with Bridge, his eyebrows arching. "Which would be...?"

"I think I'm gay,"


	15. Chapter 15

**Author: **Skytate18

**Title: **A Violent Tango

**Summary: **Bridge is an aspiring musician struggling to make ends meet. He turns to alcohol to solve all his problems and selling illegal substances to make enough money to get by. Sky is the complete opposite. He's an assassin who gets paid for killing unworthy people, and has earned wealth and money from his job. Everything changes when Sky meets Bridge, and Bridge becomes the only thing between Sky and his job.

**Note: **this is for all the people that were waiting for a make out scene enjoy!

* * *

_**Chapter Fif**__**teen**_

Sky ogled at Bridge, wide-eyed and puzzled. The coffee in his system crawling back up his throat. "Are you serious?" He blurted. Sure Bridge's live probably revolved around hairspray and fruit cake, but he didn't appear...gay.

"As a heart attack," Bridge frowned, squirming in his seat.

It had dawned on him, after he finished high school, how strongly he felt toward men. It was an attraction he could not describe, an attraction that scared him because he had never felt it before. He refused to believe the thought that he was gay, it never even crossed his mind until someone mentioned it. That was the first person he had told about his feelings, and the last.

Her name was Elizabeth Delgado, and they had been best friends since junior year in high school. He poured out his inner secrets to her one rainy Saturday night, and she replied, "Did you ever think that you might be _gay_?".

He never saw her again after they graduated from college, both promising to keep in touch but never fulfilling that promise. Still, she was the only person who knew his darkest secret. Not even his parents' knew, and frankly, he was scared to tell them. And now, he had just spilled his secret to Sky like it was nothing.

"Oh my god, you're gay!" Sky boomed, a little bit too loudly. Everyone at the coffee shop stopped what they were doing, and turned to face a beaming Sky and an embarrassed Bridge.

Bridge sunk in his seat, covering his face slightly with his hand. "Tell the whole world, will ya?" He hissed through his hands.

"Sorry," Sky smiled before propping his elbows on the table. "Do your parents' know?"

Bridge looked away guiltily, before shaking his head. "And if you tell them, I'll tell my Dad about Carl Faller,"

"I wasn't planning on telling anyone," Sky said innocently, batting his eyelashes and grinning from ear to ear. Maybe that was why he felt so comfortable around Bridge, because he was gay as well. "Have you ever dated a gay man before?"

"No, and will you stop asking questions," Bridge scowled. "...I've kissed a bunch though," He quickly added, hiding his beat red face.

Sky let out a howl and clapped giddily. "That's the spirit!"

Bridge felt the tension between the two start to melt away as they talked more about their sexuality. He felt at ease for the first time in his life, like he wasn't alone.

At some point, Bridge's bladder started acting up. He shifted in his seat, crossing his legs and trying to force the urge to pee down. Two hours ago, he was wishing for his coffee to refill just to avoid a conversation, now, he was wishing he hadn't even drank that coffee because it meant a bathroom break, which would interrupt the flow of the chat.

"I have to pee," Bridge finally surrendered, excusing himself for a second and running to the bathroom.

The bathrooms, surprisingly, were fancy. They only had one stall, and a sink, and everything was shockingly clean and proper. You could even see yourself in the mirror hanging above the sink, and there was even soap that didn't smell like rubber.

Once he was finished, he lathered his hands in the strawberry scented soap and rinsed them under the warm tap water. He lingered in the bathroom for an unnecessary amount of time, enjoying the warmth of the water on his skin.

As Bridge dried his hands, he heard the door creak open, and saw Sky's head peek in from the corner of his eye. The man's eyes locked with Bridge, and smirked deviously.

"I thought you were dead," Sky said, walking toward the guy with suspicious eyes.

"Sorry, I like to take my time and-" Bridge was cut off by Sky's lips smashing against his own. Sky forced Bridge against the wall, lifting him up a little with his hands and sitting him on one of the sinks. Bridge could feel wet spots where he was sitting, and squirmed slightly.

Sky pushed his body weight onto the small boy's, almost eating him whole. He deepened the kiss, all his senses heightening as Bridge's hand roamed his back. The heat in the room grew by the second, until it was almost unbearable and caused the two men to strip out of their shirts.

The sound of the bathroom door opening caused the men to scramble to their feet and throw on their clothes. They both averted their eyes from the man standing in front of them, wide-eyed and uncomfortable.

Bridge nodded at the man, with Sky following his actions. They burst out of the bathroom in hysterics, Bridge clutching his stomach and Sky covering his face. "I think he's going to be forever scared of bathrooms now," Sky said in between hiccups.

Bridge glanced at his watch, and then frowned. Sky noticed the man's sudden change in mood and tapped his shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"You have to go soon," He responded in a quivering voice.

Sky winced. His plane's departure had completely blanked out of his mind. He checked his own watch and realized he only had an hour left. "Crap," Was all he could muster.

They spoke minimally on the way back to the airport, clearing their throats whenever an awkward silence would take over. They entered in silence, their arms swinging by their sides.

"So," Sky whispered.

"So," Bridge responded a bit too quickly.

"I guess it's time for me to go,"

"I guess so,"

Sky paused, shoving his cold hands in his pockets. "Before we go, I have to tell you something,"

Bridge looked around, from the snack shack back to Sky. "What?"

Sky sighed. "I was right all along about Cruger; he was the one who wanted you dead,"


	16. Chapter 16

**Author: **Skytate18

**Title: **A Violent Tango

**Summary: **Bridge is an aspiring musician struggling to make ends meet. He turns to alcohol to solve all his problems and selling illegal substances to make enough money to get by. Sky is the complete opposite. He's an assassin who gets paid for killing unworthy people, and has earned wealth and money from his job. Everything changes when Sky meets Bridge, and Bridge becomes the only thing between Sky and his job.

* * *

__

_**Chapter Six**__**teen**_

Sky's eyes remained glued to his feet, his hands dangling lazily by his side. He felt a pair of hands engulf his, their fingers lacing and grazing. He looked up to meet Bridge's light blue eyes staring back at him.

"Sky, he was a bad man," Bridge began but was cut off by Sky yanking his hand out of the boy's.

"That's the thing, Bridge, you don't understand. My own boss lied to me, and _used_ me and made me go against everything I believed in," Sky said in a small voice, lowering his head and sagging his shoulders.

Bridge, using his index finger, raised Sky's chin. "So Cruger wanted me dead just to be even with my Dad?"

Sky averted his eyes and nodded. "I'm sorry,"

"Don't apologize," Bridge said hastily, keeping his index finger tucked under Sky's chin.

"I feel like everything is my fault,"

"It's not," Bridge forced a smile. "And if you're so unsure of your job, why don't you just quit?"

"It's not that easy," Sky backed away from Bridge, leaving a lonely gap in between the two.

"I quit drug dealing," Bridge replied flatly. "And it wasn't hard,"

"Bridge, it's different, I've been doing this for years," Sky mused.

Bridge flashed a smirk. "I was a drug dealer for years too,"

"Flight 38 to Canada is boarding passengers now," The speaker announced, interrupting Sky's thoughts.

Sky sighed. "That's my flight,"

"What are you going to Canada for?" Bridge asked gingerly.

"Business," Sky dropped his head in shame, collecting his carry on luggage and swinging it on his back. "Well, thanks for poisoning me and everything," He quickly added, shuffling his feet uncomfortably.

"That's all? What about the bathroom incident? Are we just going to forget that?" Bridge scoffed.

"What else am I going to say?" Sky muttered.

"How about, I enjoyed kissing you and I wish to do it again," Bridge offered.

Sky narrowed his eyebrows. "My plane is leaving, I have to go,"

"Unbelievable," Bridge said with his mouth hanging open. He felt disappointed, betrayed and used. He had trusted Sky enough to tell him that he was gay, and the kiss - passionate and sensual, did it mean nothing to him?

"Listen, Bridge, I'm sorry. I just can't commit to anything right now, and the kiss, I thought it was just a spur of the moment thing. It didn't mean anything," Sky mumbled quietly, almost directly into the blonde's ear.

"This is the final call for flight 38 to Canada," The speaker broke in.

"I'm sorry, maybe I'll see you around someday?" Sky shrugged, extending his arms. Bridge didn't budge, so he took the initiative to hug the man himself. Bridge smelled of his cologne, and was iffy about the hug at first, but rapidly surrendered and hugged him back.

Bridge wriggled out of the tight embrace, unsatisfied and upset. "Have fun killing people," He blinked blankly.

A frown tugged at the corner of Sky's lips as he stared at Bridge with hollow eyes. The two men blinked almost rhythmically, as if choreographed. "Bye, and not one word to anyone about anything. I know you're dying to tell everyone how much of a great kisser I am," He winked and smirked.

Despite everything going on, Bridge smirked back.

Sky squeezed Bridge's shoulder tenderly, before turning on his heel and walking away. Bridge gawked at the man, until he turned the corner and was gone. A few minutes later, Bridge saw Sky's plane hovering in the sky until it flew away. He returned to the coffee shop, where he drowned his sorrows with strong coffee and a cinnamon bun. They had ran out of fruit cake.

* * *


	17. Chapter 17

**Author: **Skytate18

**Title: **A Violent Tango

**Summary: **Bridge is an aspiring musician struggling to make ends meet. He turns to alcohol to solve all his problems and selling illegal substances to make enough money to get by. Sky is the complete opposite. He's an assassin who gets paid for killing unworthy people, and has earned wealth and money from his job. Everything changes when Sky meets Bridge, and Bridge becomes the only thing between Sky and his job.

**Note: **this is the end! Stay tuned for my new story "Carson's Anatomy"

* * *

_**Chapter S**__**eventeen**_

"How was the night shift son?" Mike lowered the newspaper he was reading and warmly smiled at his son, who didn't make an attempt to smile back. "That bad, huh?" Bridge nodded and trudged up the carpeted stairs to his room.

He locked the door behind him, throwing his body on the springy bed. With one lazy finger he rubbed his throbbing temple and frowned up at his ceiling. It was covered with glow in the dark stars, a childhood obsession.

He stared up at the stars. Soon, the sun would set and darkness would clog his room and the stars would start to twinkle. He closed his eyes until then, hands sprawled on the bed, and head propped up by a pillow.

He awoke an hour later and opened his eyes to reveal thousands of glowing starts smiling down at him. He blinked back sleep, as the stars shone above him and hypnotized him. They had him almost in a trance. He was lost in them; it almost gave him a sense of apathy because he felt nothing while staring at the stars. And he liked it.

For the next couple of months, he relished the moments he got to admire the stars. It soothed him and made him forget about everything. Sky Tate didn't exist at those moments, but as soon as the sun came up, and the stars lost their glow, Sky Tate would cloud his mind all over again...

"Carson, are you listening to me?" Boom fussed, shaking the counter.

"What?" Bridge slurred, snapping out of his daze. Sky Tate had managed to crawl back into his mind, it was an obsession, he couldn't help it.

"Did you hear anything I said?" Boom crossed his arms.

"I lost you after 'Bridge'," He confessed.

Boom sighed heavily. "I hired a new guy, to help you out,"

"Finally!" Bridge screeched. The snack shack's popularity had increased drastically, and Bridge could hardly serve all the customers before they started to complain. "I hope it's not some dead beat guy,"

Boom ignored Bridge's last comment and said. "I'm going to leave now, if the guy comes just tell him what to do,"

"Whatever," Bridge shrugged, inwardly jumping up and down when Boom left.

Bridge whistled a tune whilst thumbing through a newspaper. A light tapping sound was heard from the entrance, as he looked up just to lock eyes with - "Sky?" The name came out like a shocked shriek.

Sky smiled from the doorway, waving stupidly.

"What are you doing here?" By now, the newspaper laid untouched on the counter. Bridge stared at the man in front of him. Could it really be him? Was he just day dreaming again?

"I came, for the job," Sky said in almost a whisper. His voice sounded strained and hoarse, and he looked weak, just like the last time Bridge had seen him.

Bridge winced. "The job? What job?"

"I'm the new guy Boom hired me to help you out," Sky said flatly, one hand on top of the other, rubbing nervously.

"You're the new guy?" Bridge repeated, a wave of nausea overpowering his body. Sky was a murdered, a killer, what was he doing applying for a job behind a counter?

"Yes," Sky nodded sharply.

"What happened to your other job?" Bridge blurted, clutching his thigh.

Sky shrugged. "I quit,"

Bridge's bottom lip quivered in awe. Sky quit? When? Why? He blinked repeatedly and then said. "Why?"

"I thought about what you said," Was Sky's response.

"What did I say?" Bridge knew perfectly what was going to come out of Sky's mouth. Their last moments speaking to each other, months ago, still replayed in his mind like a never-ending movie.

"That if I was so unsure of my job, why didn't I just quit," Sky's voice tremble as his eyes dropped to his feet.

He had quit for a lot of reasons, but the main reason was that he took what Bridge said into consideration. The guilt he felt for almost killing Bridge, and the regret he felt for _not_ killing Bridge and upsetting his boss was too much for him to handle. He had alienated himself from his job in fear of feeling those wretched emotions again, it got to the point he didn't even want to think about it, and quit.

"So, I quit," Sky finished with a grin.

"Okay," Bridge blinked and walked behind the counter, where he sat on his stool and stared at the man in front of him. "Costumers are going to start coming in soon,"

Sky scanned the store. "That's it?"

"What more is there to say?" Bridge asked, adjusting his belt.

"Aren't you going to teach me how to make ice-cream or something?"

"Is that _really_ why you come here?" Bridge scowled, his face twisting in confusion and curiosity. Maybe Sky wanted something to do with him, why else would he apply to be a cashier, in the same store _he_ worked.

"Not really," Sky sighed. "Well, yeah, I came here for the job but I also came here to patch up, wait, no, I came here to start from the beginning. A clean start, are you willing to give me another chance?"

Bridge pondered on the question. Was he willing to give Sky another chance? Another chance at what? Friends'? Boyfriends'? What would his Dad think? He was supposed to hate Sky, and his Dad would have a fit if Bridge showed up at home with Sky by his side. "_Fuck_." Bridge thought.

Sky grew irritable during the awkward pause, folding and unfolding his muscular arms every so often. He swung the plastic bag he was carrying by his side, pondering about when to reveal what was inside.

"Will you kill me?" Bridge finally spoke in a small voice.

Sky snorted, and bit his lip. "No, I won't. I don't kill anymore,"

"Not even bugs?"

"Not even bugs," Sky repeated.

Bridge cracked a smile. "Okay, then, I'll give you another chance,"

Sky extended his right arm for Bridge to shake. "Hello, I'm Sky Tate, 22 years old, raised in Virginia, my whole family have been assassins like me, but not anymore, and I like to take long baths and eat fruit cake in my spare time,"

Bridge laughed, remembering the night Sky had introduced himself. "Hello, I'm Bridge Carson, 18 years old, raised in Seattle, and I work at the airport as a cashier. I like fruit cake, the ones that aren't expired, that is, and I hate my boss,"

"So, how about you show me how to make ice-cream now?" Sky questioned, walking towards the blonde. "Oh, but first, I have something for you," Sky reached into his plastic bag and pulled out ...

"Fruit cake?" Bridge giggled, but stopped abruptly. "It isn't poisoned, is it?"

"No, it's not poisoned or expired, I just bought it," Sky explained, pulling out a knife, paper plates and forks out of his bag.

"So, you think you can win me over with some fruit cake and a cheesy apology?" Bridge crossed his arms.

"Um...yes,"

"Okay," They both laughed in unison, as Sky cut the first piece of fruit cake and gobbled it down almost instantly. "Yum,"

Bridge licked the fruit cake, cautiously, before wolfing it down. No dizziness, no sign of side effects. "It's good,"

Sky responded with a small, crooked smile. Bridge's knees wobbled as he stared intently at Sky, his beautiful blue eyes and confident demeanor excited Bridge. "So, how long is it going to take to regain your trust again?" Sky said with a full mouth.

"I don't think you ever had my trust," Sky laughed at the reply, shaking his head at how absurd it was.

Bridge knew it would take some time for him to fully trust Sky, whether as a friend or something more, but for now, he was just satisfied that Sky was in his life. "But you'll get it, someday," Bridge informed.

"I'll keep feeding you, until I have your trust,"

"Good,"

Sky checked his watch. "How much longer until the costumers come?"

"A couple of minutes, why?"

Sky licked his fingers, seductively. "Wanna go to the backroom?"

Bridge cocked an eyebrow. "For what?"

Sky winked. Bridge nodded and ran over to the door, changing the 'open' sign to 'closed' and locking the door. He intertwined his fingers with Sky's and, in the exact moment, he assault his lips in a long and passionate kiss and, like the first time, they undress each other from their shirts . They run to the backroom, slamming the door shut behind them.

Outside, costumers flocked around the store, exchanging confused glances to why the store was closed. Inside a very cramped, very hot backroom, Sky and Bridge finished the business they had left unfinished at the Starbucks' bathroom.


End file.
